Travelling Blind, from East Yorkshire to a palace garden party and points beyond.

 Often in the rain.

Have you heard of Travelling Blind? 

If not now's your chance.

Travelling Blind is a blog run by two very lovely people, Andrew and Rebecca. (Or should that be Rebecca and Andrew 😉)

It chronicles the exploits—and antics—of Andrew. He's blind.

I listened to him doing a talk last year and he had me in stitches. He's a great raconteur and loves talking to people about what's going on in his life. 

How he went into hospital for an operstion on his legs, and ten days later came out of a coma. Blind!

There's no woe is me, no why me, just a determination to enjoy life in the new way. 

And Rebecca is with him one hundred percent.

They are a brilliant team.

He challenged us (and you) to do the toast and marmalade challenge. 

Find the loaf. (I honestly can't remember if you then have to toast it, but I imagine so. (Sorry!) 

Find the butter and the marmalade and spread them on.

Unsighted!

It's not easy, but he makes it seem so accessible.

Rebecca is his his other half. Some might say the one person who can keep him in check. (I wouldn't dare)

One way of keeping busy, has him doing long distance walks for charity. 

As he puts it here,

"I am a blind man who writes a blog in the hope of showing people that being blind is not the end of life but the start of something new and exciting. It is also informative and, if I say so myself, very funny."

https://www.facebook.com/travellingblind/

To date they have raised £15556 for Guide Dogs and this year they hope to raise at least another £10000.

In 2022 he became the first blind man to walk the Wolds Way, 79 miles in 7 days with 11 terrific volunteer guides. Last year Ihewas the first blind man to walk the Cleveland Way, 109 miles over 12 days with 18 amazing volunteer guides.

This year, he's hoping to complete the King Charles 111 coastal path.This runs from Berwick on Tweed (almost in Scotland, and has been on and of over the centuries. Okay history lesson over) It finishes off in Bridlington, in East Yorkshire.

It wil take place from 9-29 Septemeber inclusive. If you're around that way and you see him, don't forget to say hi. He does like cake, if anyone happens to have some with them.

This is not a begging blog, although of course if anyone does decide to donate it would be very gratefully received. 

https://tinyurl.com/9r2b68m9

Oh and the Garden Party?

A thank you for all his (and Rebecca's) hard work.

(and it rained, but if you've been honoured with an invitation to a palace garden party, who cares?

Hats off to them, 

happy Reading, walking, donating, and just living,

Love, Raven xxx

Why does the cock crow before dawn?

 No, it's not a riddle. It's a question going through my tired mind.

We live in a village and somewhere there's a cockerel.

Most of the time I don't hear it crow but if the bedroom window is open...

then I do.

And it always seems to be dark with no sign of dawn.

If we have visitors there's always a lot of yawning and muttering about that bleeping cockerel.

(Yes, that is a drawing of a Raven, created me by the incredibly talented Terence Reed. I can't find where the rooster lives to take its picture) 

I don't mind hearing the crowing, because to me it reminds me of what villages used to be like, when they were purely for those who lived and worked around there.

Although I was town bred, I've lived in a lot of villages over the years. 

From one not much more than a hamlet (a dozen houses but with a shop and a school) to one almost the size of a small town (several shops, pubs, doctors surgeries and so on).

Plus, all sizes in between. 

Some were still very villagey-villages. Where you saw as many tractors as cars and the local shop sold mainly local produce. 

Others were no more than an extension of town. You hardly saw anyone around during the day, but watched everyone come back home in the evening.

Which do I prefer?

To be honest it's what suits at the time. It is strange though, to revisit somewhere I lived a long time ago and see how it's changed—or not.

The village where I—and the cockerel—live was once a village of farms. 

You can tell where they once were as a lot of the roads and new houses are named after them. Manor Farm Close, North Farm Lane, Jessops Crescent and so on.

Often the farm houses are still there, tucked between a nineteen-seventies semi and a twenty-first century detached. It makes for an interesting vista.

It also gets my writer's mind going. What was it like to live here a hundred years ago? What happened, what crops or animals would be around?

Was there a market near the market cross?

I researched, yes at one time there was a market. Yes there were four pubs or more. Shops, a bakery, a cemetery in the village and at the church...

All in a village of between 500-900 inhabitants, depending on the dates.

It's fascinating, and a good background for a story.

And of course there's always local gossip. 

There used to be a shop. It closed a few years ago. but evidently the shopkeeper, who was also the post-mistress refused to serve anyone she didn't like!

There is a school and a pub and lots of well-attended activities at the village hall.

The war memorial is looked after, the village kept neat and tidy.

It's friendly.

And it has the cockerel!

Why does it crow in the dark?

A question to ponder...

Happy reading,

love Raven xxx

To cardi or not to cardi

 That is the question.

What I really mean is are you in the 'yes, I love wearing cardigans' camp or the other, 'not in a million years, thank you,' one?

There's no right or wrong answer here. In fact you might even be someone who says, 'when I need to'. 

I'm definitely in the 'yes' camp.

There are so many different cardigans out there to choose from. Thick and chunky,

thin and comfy. Old, and new. Rarely worn, or almost had it.

I've got the lot.

Some are creased, some pristine, some are very rarely seen.

But I'd hate not to have a cardi for every occasion.

I take them on holiday, stuffed into an oversized tote, or tied around my neck. Wear them instead of a jumper and relish the fact I can put one on or take it off easily and, (very important at times) not mess my hair up.

I've cardigans I've had for year, old and bobby, 

but oh so comfortable, 

I'll wear them at home but never in public.

I've also got patterned ones which aren't as easy to fling on, because they don't look right with so many other patterns.

There's long ones, short ones and of course lots of in between length ones.

And this one, which every time I drag it out for a special occasion (usually Christmas) the lovely husband asks when I got it as he can't remember seeing it before (shows how rarely it gets worn.) 

I have great pleasure in telling him around 1995. (True) I do the smug, 'see I do keep stuff and look after it' expression, then frantically shove a good dozen or so of assorted knitwear to the back of the wardrobe!

I really must give my current heroine a wardrobe full of cardigans!

Bye for now, happy reading as I go to decide what cardi to wear,

Love Raven xxx